Untouched: The Persistence of Loss
by Venerate
Summary: Uchiha Sasuke, a popular jock with a knack for drawing, attends Konoha's prestigious high school without a care for anyone else. He never thought that his life would come to a change because of a ballet dancer named Naruto. : yaoi, sister-story to UCC:
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto, nor am I making money our of writing this. This applies to all chapters.

**Warnings:** YAOI; SasuNaru, bad language, unorthodox methods, sexual activities, sexual harassments, fluff, bullying, minor character death. More perverted than the sister-story. Soccer!Sasuke, Artist!Sasuke.

**Genre:** This is a romantic drama, like most of my things. I've tried to be as romantic and sensual as possible.

**Summary:** Uchiha Sasuke, popular jock with a knack for drawing, attends Konoha's prestigious high school without a care for anyone else. He never thought that his life would come to a change because of a ballet dancer by the name Uzumaki Naruto.

**IMPORTANT:** This is a story written in third person: about Sasuke's life. There is a sister-story to this! It is named **Untouched: The Cross of Change**. It's also written in third person: about Naruto's life.

And you're probably thinking, "what about D&G and U11?" But I have plans for those as well :D Make sure to comment if you want more of this!

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**Untouched: The Persistence of Loss **

**Written by Venerate**

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**P****rologue**

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Where Uchiha Sasuke lived, it was cold. An icy silence hung in the air, making it hard for a seven-year-old to play. The silence was to remain, and Sasuke had to be quiet. His older brother would look after him during the afternoons, when their parents were working.

He could read books, he could write, he could sleep. It was silent. It was okay. He was allowed to go outside and play, if the nanny found the weather suitable. Though, most of all, Sasuke liked to draw. He used colourful finger paint; he used crayons; he used watercolours. He liked to draw animals – cats, dogs and horses. He liked to draw humans – superheroes and princesses.

Itachi noticed this. He came home to take care of his brother, and saw those drawings. Nothing compared to what his artistic friends could do, but very good for a seven-year-old. Of course, Itachi had to tell his father about this. Uchiha Fugaku would be very pleased to know of Sasuke's talent.

He was pleased; Fugaku immediately grasped this. If his son had a talent, then Sasuke would get the opportunity to practice it. He expected nothing but flawlessness from his sons. He also knew that a famous artist within the family would do the clan well. An artist's name could last forever. Being an artist was innocent, respectable.

Uchiha Mikoto, Fugaku's wife, was very pleased to see a creative string in her youngest child. She wanted, as her husband, to give Sasuke the opportunity to carry out his potential. She found that her eldest son had gotten everything, while Sasuke had been shunned by Fugaku. Now, she was happy to see her husband's interest in Sasuke.

Sasuke was very happy. Happy that his father suddenly cared for him, for his biggest hobby. For once, his father seemed to be interested in him. For once, his older brother wasn't the one holding his father's attention. For once, Sasuke was given a chance.

Of course, he would use that chance. He knew, even as a seven-year-old, that there might not be anymore chances for him to fight his way into his father's heart. Immediately, his life came to circle around art.

Crayons and finger paint were soon forgotten, and he was forced to leave that stage of his childhood. To grasp something greater, his teachers said. He had several teachers, all trying to prop his head full with art history, art techniques, art supplies. How to use it; how to do it; how to draw it.

As Sasuke grew, his passion remained. A year after the start of his classes, he still wanted to do this. He was a stubborn child. His love for drawing bodies and faces increased – he drew anyone in his presence; his long-haired brother, his beautiful mother, his wrinkly aunt and even his cousin's girlfriend.

When he was nine years old, Fugaku told him to _'stop_ _this nonsense_.'

No more faces, no more bodies – no more portraits. No one got famous by drawing just portraits. If he wanted to live up to the clan's expectations, he would drop it. He would pick up something else, something memorable. Wide and modern – mainstream and well-known to the crowd. _'Play the safe card. Become someone.'_

Think Picasso, his grandmother said. Think Monet, his uncle offered. Think Derain, his cousin's girlfriend said. Think Cezanne, his father's friend suggested.

It really was a shame that no one said: 'Think _you_.'

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**To Be Continued**


	2. With Teeth: I

**Untouched: The Persistence of Loss**

**Written by Venerate**

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**With Teeth: Part I**

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_Eight years later..._

A small tattoo on the crook of his neck. A small rebellion. Easy to hide, easy to cover. A small piece of art in black ink on his porcelain skin. It was his own creation: there to prove his own will, nearly non-existent. Black eyes, seemingly darker than the ink on his shoulder. Black hair, spiked and blue-tinted. A great contrast to his ashen complexion.

Traces of anger on his handsome face; his full lips in a straight line, to show displeasure. Displeasure, always there to taint his gorgeous features.

A well-built body. Strong, reliable. Beautiful, fast. So fast, so _fast_. Prompt and rapid, always alert and awake. Years of soccer practice had paid off, showing his great physique under those clothes. A real shame that his stunning body had to be hidden under_ clothes_.

Always dark clothes. Blue turtlenecks, grey shirts, black jeans. A hint of white on the wife-beater under his navy blue dress shirt. To show his pain; a piece of his tortured soul in his clothing. No, not really. Dark clothes to fit in; to _hide_.

* * *

Uchiha Sasuke ran. He ran fast, sweat pouring out from every pore on his body. His hair was a mess, bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead. His hands were warm, as hot as the rest of his moving body. He was on first place, knowing that no one would catch up with him if he continued in this pace.

His coach, Hatake Kakashi, was standing by the sidelines. Watching with one, grey eye – just waiting for Sasuke to get tired, to sprain his foot, to screw up in any way. Sasuke was waiting for it as well, wondering how this could be so perfect. He just had to push himself a little more.

"Okay! That's enough!"

Sasuke didn't care. He knew that he could run at least two more laps around the field. Just two more.

"Uchiha! Get your ass over here!"

No. His sight was blurry, but there was nothing wrong with his hearing. He could hear Kakashi perfectly clear. He just chose to ignore the silver-haired man. Just one more lap.

"_Now!_ Or I'll kick you off the team on this instant!"

Sasuke slowed down, his strong legs protesting weakly as drowsiness washed over them. He didn't doubt that Kakashi would do that. He bent over, practically swallowing air to get it into his burning lungs. He blinked, clearing his sight from the haze. He let out a strange noise from the back of his throat.

"Inuzuka, go get Uchiha before he vomits on my grass."

Sasuke growled between gritted teeth, refusing to show any kind of weakness. He straightened his posture, glad that he wasn't dizzy. He could take more than that, and he didn't want to come off as fragile to his team. He was the captain after all.

A boy, about the same height as Sasuke, jogged up to him. His brown hair was plastered to his sweaty face, but that didn't seem to bother Inuzuka Kiba. Instead, the other male grinned and offered an arm to his captain. Sasuke threw a dark glare at the brunet before walking over to the rest of the team. He could practically feel Kiba's irritation, but couldn't care less. There was nothing new about Sasuke being chilly, so the brown-haired team member said nothing.

Once they both stood next to Kakashi, the others had gone quiet. It could be quite a feat to make the soccer players to shut up.

"So, now when Uchiha is done showing off," Kakashi chirped mockingly. Sasuke sent a glare the coach's way. "Next week, your first game this semester is held in Sunagakure. Anyone who knows they won't be able to join us?"

No one dared to raise their hands, afraid that Kakashi would cause a scene of disdain and mockery. Hatake could be quite ruthless when it came to games – he was very dedicated. If one bailed out, the entire team became punished – teamwork was Kakashi's favourite word.

"Jolly good! Off to showers, you've done well today." He shooed them away, impatient to get back to reading one of the few books he kept to. "Uchiha, you stay."

Sasuke kept himself from sighing, knowing that it would do no good. "Yes, Hatake?"

Kakashi smiled at him, his visible eyes shutting closed as he did so. "One more stunt like that and I won't let you play in Suna."

"Hm."

Sasuke wasn't sure if Kakashi would really do that, but he wouldn't bet on it. He was the best player, though he was not the only good one. As Kakashi waited for a real reply, Sasuke fought with himself inwardly. He wanted to keep his spot in the team, of course, but he didn't want to surrender to this old fool.

"Say it, Sasuke."

Kakashi was enjoying this way too much, Sasuke noted. He grunted out a low, "It won't happen again."

"Ah, I'll keep you to that. Off you go – you have art class in half an hour, no?"

Sasuke walked away, nothing else leaving his mouth for the rest of the day.

* * *

School, practice, art classes. School, practice, art classes.

One day, he would do something rash. Something stupid. Just because he had gotten stuck in this routine. He wanted to get out. Break the pattern.

_School_, awful. Nothing but unenthusiastic teachers speaking dully over the giggles and whispers of the class. Nothing but unenthusiastic students teasing and joking with each other. _Practice_, his love. Sweat, blood and tears. Though, not literally. He hadn't cried since he was a mere child. _Art classes_, a must. His mind could be blank, his hand could be shaking – yet, he was forced to draw; paint.

Nothing but a routine to go over and over, again and again. His life was a routine. He would be satisfied with just changing it a little, a small bit. Perhaps not go to school? Perhaps art classes on Saturdays? Anything to change the_ horrible _life he led.

"Baby brother."

Sasuke looked up from his desk, his face blank. He put his pen down, deeming his homework finished for the moment. He looked up at his older brother. "Yes, Itachi-nii?"

"Father and mother have requested our presence on the performance at the Grand Theatre. There is a lovely ballet performance this evening."

Itachi showed no emotion on his handsome face, but Sasuke could practically feel the joy. Itachi's favourite pastime was to torture him in every way possible. "And what time am I expected to be ready for departure, big brother?"

"The show starts eight o'clock this evening." With those words, Itachi walked out of the room.

Sasuke turned in his chair, unaffected by Itachi's information. It wasn't too often his parents took him with them when they were going out, but it wasn't rare either. They wanted their youngest son to be seen on cultural, popular – appropriate – events. Such as ballet, musicals, theatres.

He sighed, hiding his handsome face in his hands. He felt no excitement upon hearing the word 'ballet'. He could enjoy musicals and theatres at times, but dance performances... He didn't really get them, what they were supposed to represent. Of course, he always seemed to be the only one with these thoughts, so he kept them to himself.

He picked up the pen again, staring down on the inky words in his science book. He didn't really understand why he was doing this. What good would come out from school? He would become an artist – painting landscapes, drawing inanimate object – whether he liked it or not. He would die. Just like everyone else, he would die.

Absent-mindedly, he started doodling in the science book on his desk. An eye, black from the ink. A female eye, he believed. Yes, with a straight nose and round lips. Red in his mind, black on the paper. A face. If his father saw this, he would snort at his son's wish to draw living objects, saying _there is no fame in drawing people_.

It was sad reality; sad reality that Sasuke wanted nothing but to put human emotions down on his canvas.

* * *

The term 'dress to impress' was the motto of Sasuke's family. Mikoto, Sasuke's gorgeous mother, lived to impress others. That was one of the reasons as to why Sasuke's father had deemed her worthy entering the Uchiha clan. She was intelligent, beautiful and simply perfect to stay by Fugaku's side.

Sasuke himself was supposed to find one of those. Whether it was a man or a woman – the Uchiha Clan accepted anything that was fashionable, and right now, being bi- or homosexual was acknowledged by society. Despite gender, Sasuke's future spouse had to be perfect. Even though there were many living examples of this perfection in his clan, Sasuke had a hard time believing that he would find someone that he would tolerate.

He could see a few girls and boys in his own age, probably dragged here by their parents, but none seemed appealing. Most teenagers looked like him on these kinds of events – clad in dark, expensive clothes; a dull facial expressions; proud postures and strict attitude. These teens were, like him, expected to marry a copy of themselves.

"Sasuke-kun, stop daydreaming," Mikoto whispered softly. She put a reassuring hand on his shoulder as they walked behind Fugaku and Itachi towards their seats. From their comfortable, red chairs, they would be able to see and hear everything on stage. Just the way Sasuke liked it – that way, he felt as if he was a part of everything; controlling.

"This dance group has been getting great reviews in the newspapers," Fugaku informed them. "One of my co-workers said that they have gotten a lot of awards the last two years."

Mikoto nodded, smiling sweetly as Fugaku continued to praise the ballet dancers. Sasuke didn't bother to listen – he could always read about them in the brochure. His gaze travelled over the audience, but he couldn't really see much in the dim light. Almost all seats were occupied, and it had Sasuke wondering what was so great with ballet anyway.

Dark eyes scanned the seats closest to him, thinking that, soon, they would all be watching a bunch of teenagers in tights and spandex suits jump around on stage; watching them twirl and tip on their toes in different lights. Not to say that he minded – he enjoyed the music very much. What he couldn't understand was how someone could be moved to tears by a ballet performance, or how someone could claim it to be art. He couldn't understand where the emotions were in the dancers.

He had yet to see a ballet performance that could be labelled as _art_.

Someone cleared their throat loudly, and Sasuke's narrow eyes were immediately on the big stage. A short, purple-haired female was standing there with a poisonous smile on her face. Sasuke almost frowned at the horrible shirt she wore – it looked as if someone had puked over it.

"Welcome," she boomed. Sasuke was a bit surprised of her voice; so strong. The tone almost reminded him of his father's. "There has been a slight change in dancers as the female leading role, Hyuuga Hinata, is incapable of dancing this evening. Her replace is Namikaze Naruto. Due to this, Namikaze-kun's role will be played by Hyuuga Neji. Deal with it."

Sasuke arched a brow, knowing that Namikaze Naruto was a boy. Sasuke didn't know what 'Namikaze-kun' looked like, but he had heard of him before. From what Sasuke had heard, Namikaze Naruto was a great dancer – but nothing less was expected from the son of the mayor. He guessed that it didn't matter what gender you had while dancing ballet. He also knew Hyuuga Neji from school, knowing that the polished teen was from the lower part of the Hyuuga Clan.

"Before I leave the stage to my students, I would just like to thank you all for coming, and I wish you a pleasant evening." With a graceful bow, she walked off the stage to leave place for the dancers.

Sasuke watched, perking up a little at the choice of music. He watched intently, knowing that he would have to be a part of the discussion later. His father always liked to discuss whatever events they took part of.

The first dancer to enter was a boy, probably around Sasuke's height. He had long, brown hair in a ponytail and a stern look on his face. Sasuke recognised him as Neji immediately. He twirled, walked on his tiptoes, gestured with his muscled arms and made other refined movements to the music. Nothing special, Sasuke thought. Every ballet dancer could do that.

As the music calmed down a little, a second dancer appeared. This one was shorter than the brunet by almost a head, but that didn't make him seem any smaller. He was blond, the skin that was showed a bronze colour. He was a great contrast against the taller dancer.

The blond dancer gestured with his lanky arms exactly when the brunet did; they jumped together exactly the same time; they showed off their flexibility together – they did everything exactly the same, at the same time. Slowly, slowly, painfully so.

Yet, Sasuke found himself staring at the blond. Neji faded in comparison to the fair-haired teen. Tearing his eyes from the graceful, slim creature, Sasuke looked him up in the brochure. Namikaze Naruto.

No wonder people said that he was so great.

A few more dancers entered the stage, but Sasuke didn't pay attention. The blond, now frozen in the centre of the stage, was staring up towards the high ceiling. Sasuke could see those eyes perfectly well from their great seats.

Blue. Blue orbs, shimmering with what could be anything from exhaustion to fear of doing wrong.

Had Sasuke been anyone else, he might have been curious. Curious – what was that feeling, visible in those colourful eyes? However, being no one but himself, Sasuke didn't wonder. He felt no curiosity and he felt no urge to find out. He was busy with the itching in his hands – the itch to create something, to be able to capture exactly that look.

Then, the moment was ruined. Naruto moved again, his chest moving rapidly with his harsh inhales and exhales, almost running. Running towards Neji, jumping, flying, landing beautifully. Even though Sasuke was far from educated within ballet, he was sure that it was a perfect jump. A part of him wondered what if felt like to be the tall brunet, who caught Naruto in the air.

What a gorgeous feeling it had to be, Sasuke thought. Being depended on like that.

While being in his own mind like this, he failed to notice the curious glances his brother sent him. Itachi offered a small, knowing smirk before returning to look at the beautiful show.

* * *

Sasuke usually went to bed early; lack of sleep made him a nasty being. This night seemed to be different, though.

Low music was played – the same music that had been played during the ballet show. Soft piano keys, as if being barely touched, followed by violins and heavy cello.

If he closed his eyes, he could still see that haunted look in deep blue eyes, only for the oceanic colour to turn into something enthusiastic and excited. The itchy feeling in his hands was even worse now, a lead pencil hovering over his paper. He wanted to capture both expressions – the fair of failing and disappointing, as well as the thrill of performing what you loved the most.

His garbage bin was filled with papers by now, all with half-done eyes and faces on them. He was getting more frustrated by the second. Even though he could see that face perfectly well in his mind, it was impossible to put those lines onto paper. He just couldn't; nothing he drew was even remote to what he had seen. Nothing was even worthy called a drawing.

He was starting to feel stupid. There was no _motion_, no_ feeling_. What was he trying to do? It was worthless – nothing turned out as he wanted it. Even if it had, it wouldn't have been any use. He wouldn't be able to show it to anyone. The clan members would just start to rant about fame and future, Itachi couldn't care less, and he had no one else. He wouldn't be able to put it on his walls, for that would only creep him out.

There was nothing normal with being obsessed with a stranger. He knew that very well. Yet, it was impossible for him to stop imagine that sweaty body, moving so gracefully. Impossible to forget that handsome face, those indescribable eyes and that smiling mouth. The perfect model.

Oh, how he wanted to draw. Draw and draw, look up and see the motive, draw even more and look over his model again, erase something and put out details. For hours and hours, the perfect model in his room, looking at him with those eyes. He would be able to make the perfect drawing, so alike the pretty model that it hurt the viewer.

So much motion, so many feelings.

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**To Be Continued**


	3. With Teeth: II

**Untouched: The Persistence of Loss**

**Written by Venerate**

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**With Teeth: Part II**

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His lungs were burning, his eyes half-closed in an attempt to keep away tears. He was ready to fall into a pile of limbs, but too stubborn to let it happen. Instead, he tried to speed up, take longer steps, moving his entire body as if trying to run _faster_.

He was often praised for his speed. He knew that he was fast – faster than many in his own age. Although he knew that he didn't _need_ to get any faster, he would never stop trying. It was an incredible feeling, to run so fast, so fast that you would be aching for days. It had taken him a lot to get where he was today, a lot of training.

His strong legs carried him a few hundred meters further, but then he had to slow down. He had yet to turn dizzy, but knew better than to continue from this point. He had to catch his breath if he wanted to get home as well. Leaning against a tall apartment building, he closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. He could practically see the sunshine through his eyelids.

This area was very familiar to him. He jogged here a few times a week; it took about half an hour in his speed. First, he had to get out of the Uchiha Compound, and then through the fancy part of the city where the Uchiha Compound was located. After those twenty minutes, he ran on the sidewalk in the outskirts of the city. Here were apartment buildings and normal-sized houses. Most were well-kept, nice. The further away he ran, the worse the neighbourhoods became.

Therefore, he always stopped here, where it was clean and clear from criminals. Here, families and children played on the streets. If he went further north, there would be only homeless and druggies on the street. If he ran south again, there would be empty streets – rich people had better things to do than watch their children play on the street; and if a child was spotted playing on the street, the family would move out of time the next day in shame.

What a dysfunctional world they lived in.

Sasuke took a deep breath, opening his eyes to stretch. As he stretched, he watched the people around him. He could see the park from here. He had never been there, but was sure that it was as lovely as it looked. He had great eyesight, and could see the dogs and kids running around, parents sitting on the park benches. As young, he had only been to a park a few times with Itachi and their mother.

Deeming himself ready to jog home, he gave the park a last look before running. One day, he would run through the park – like he had seen others do – and see it up close.

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"Sasuke?"

Sasuke almost flinched in surprise as someone – his father – knocked on his door. He hadn't known that there had been someone at home. He had hoped that he would be all alone, so that he could paint or draw after showering. The strong image in his head had yet to disappear or fade – the urge to make that image into art almost made him go crazy.

"Yes?" Hopefully, they wouldn't bother him if they knew that he was there.

"I'm taking Itachi with me to the office. We'll be home late."

"Yes, sir," Sasuke answered, relived to hear that he would soon be left to himself.

Fugaku's dark eyes studied him, waiting for something that never came. "If your aunt steps by with Itachi's allergy pills; make sure to thank her properly."

"Yes, sir."

Sasuke stood completely still, listening as his father's steps faded away. Once he couldn't hear Fugaku, he started to undress. He tried to ignore how stuffed his dustbin was, and how the papers now littered the floor. What bothered him the most was that not a single one was even close to finished. He hated unfinished work.

He threw his clothes on the floor, knowing that he would pick it all up later and be frustrated with himself because of the mess he made. He walked naked through his room, opening the door to his bathroom. It was a nice bathroom – clean, impersonal. Not like his room, that was filled with both empty and painted canvases, littered with sculptures and other kinds of art.

Here, he could escape those pictures in his head.

* * *

Later, after an hour or so, Sasuke found himself in his room again. He was sitting in his bed, his new computer in his lap and a half-eaten apple in his hand. He licked his lips, swallowing what he had in his mouth. His fingers moved quickly over the keys, his eyes on the screen all time.

On the screen were pictures. Photographs, taken by a female named Uzumaki Kushina. He had no clue who she was. However, her site was very well organised, Sasuke had to say. Everything was sorted by years, then by months, and after that, by date. There were pictures of Namikaze Naruto, all beautiful and captivating. Moving and sweating.

He guessed that she was some kind of photographer, hired by Naruto's ballet company or something. Perhaps a relative to the manager, or maybe the trainer. Sometimes, there were short texts to the pictures, describing where the picture was taken.

Most photographs looked professional, and the motives were Naruto dancing, performing or training. Always smiling, always a determined gleam in his eyes. Then there were photos of Naruto stretching, Naruto eating something, Naruto in sweatpants and sweatshirt walking out from the changing room.

Those pictures made Sasuke feel uneasy.

Yet, it was impossible to exit the site. A mental block prevented him from even _thinking _of closing the page.

The photographs made Sasuke feel very unattractive – like a blob of fat, clumsy and left behind. As if he was missing out on something. A part of him wanted to befriend this blond beauty – that way, he would be able to hear everything that the other people in Naruto's presence got to hear. These feelings, new to him, were what made him feel uneasy.

"What are you doing?"

Sasuke dropped his half-eaten apple on the floor with a soft 'chunk'. He looked up from the screen, surprised to see his brother there. "Nothing," he replied as calmly as he could. He quickly closed the laptop, putting it on his bedside table.

"Really," Itachi commented lowly as he sat down by Sasuke's desk. "What are these?"

Sasuke was up from his bed in an instant, but not fast enough. His brother had already picked one of the many papers up, unfolding it. Sasuke froze, wondering what horrible thing his brother would do next. Itachi stared at the drawing, narrowing his beautiful eyes for a moment. Sasuke couldn't breathe.

Itachi was smirking when he looked up at his little brother. "Pretty, little brother. Really pretty."

Sasuke's heart skipped a beat at the compliment.

"Yet, this looks nothing like the model at _all_. Worthless, in other words. It looks as if father is right – you really should stick to your landscapes. There would be no fame for you if you kept drawing _shit_ like this."

Sasuke couldn't breathe. His throat felt unbelievably dry, his fingers cold as ice.

"Dearest Sasuke-kun..." Itachi stood up, letting the paper return to the littered floor, where it immediately blended in. "Perhaps this art-thing never was meant for you. Perhaps you should find something else to fill your pathetic future with. You're good at soccer, aren't you?"

Sasuke closed his eyes, hoping that Itachi would just turn around and leave. He tried to suck in as much air as he could, but it wasn't enough.

"Don't worry, Sasuke-kun," Itachi said smoothly. One of his cold hands came up to caress Sasuke's cheek. "I'll tell father that you're having doubts with your doodling. If I play my cards right, they'll let you focus on your soccer instead."

Sasuke scowled, letting out a dark, "_no_."

"_Yes._ Let your big brother handle this for you."

* * *

There were plenty of things Itachi could do to torture his little brother. It really was too easy to rile up Sasuke. The youngest Uchiha got upset by merely being in the same room as his older brother for too long. This made it exceptionally easy for Itachi to toy with his baby brother.

One day, he could take all of Sasuke's drawing material – pens and pencils, sketchbooks and tablets – hide them in the garage and just wait until the young fool noticed. That would have Sasuke angry for days. Another thing Itachi had done was to erase everything – every file, all internet history, and every picture – on Sasuke's computer. After that, Itachi had been given _weeks _of silence.

It really was peaceful when Sasuke avoided him.

* * *

The days went, but the image of Namikaze Naruto was still fresh in his mind. The same routine as always had been, but that couldn't stop his newfound obsession. Whenever he held a pen or pencil, his hand would itch – to try, try and try again to put those images on paper. Yet, he failed each time.

Even though he had never really talked to this blond danseur – only seen pictures on that website, only seen that one performance – he was starting to get annoyed. Even though it was unfair and irrational, Sasuke was beginning to become really angry.

His mood didn't improve at all when his father approached him and said that it was okay if Sasuke wanted to take a small break – the keyword being _small _– from his art courses. Hoping that this would take some weight off of his chest, Sasuke foolishly accepted the break.

Immediately after Sasuke had shown his approval, Fugaku had told him that he had soccer practice after _all _schooldays from now on.

Life was against him, Sasuke decided, lying in his bed and trying to fall asleep. He was feeling restless, wondering what Itachi actually had said to his father and thinking about the impossible task of drawing Naruto. It felt slightly wrong to think of the blond ballet dancer as 'Naruto' – too personal. Somehow... intimate.

In the dark, Sasuke sighed. The house was not as quiet as one would have imagined it to be at eleven in the evening. He could hear the sound of the TV coming from his parents' bedroom, indicating that his parents had yet to fall asleep. They were probably watching the news, perhaps a stupid movie or maybe a documentary. Dull tones came from downstairs, and Sasuke knew that it was Itachi playing on the piano. Practicing, perfecting.

Still feeling awake and restless, Sasuke reached for his laptop on the bedside table. He sat up slightly, pushing the start-button. It awoke with a soft hum, blue light shimmering in his dark room. His long fingers tapped against the keys unconsciously, feeling as if there was something he had forgotten to do or something important that he should do.

Seconds later, he found himself staring at the familiar website of Uzumaki Kushina. Something stirred inside of him – it wasn't unfamiliar, as he had been feeling this every time he entered the website. A thrill running through him, feeling dirty as he clicked on one of the links that led to a video.

He inhaled sharply as the video started. There was no sound to the video, but it wasn't needed for what the main character was doing. Completely unaware of the video camera's existence, Namikaze Naruto was stretching in a dance studio. He was surrounded by mirrors, but too caught up with stretching properly to even notice the camera man's presence. Sasuke got a glint of long, red hair and a crouching woman in the mirrors, seeing her smiling as she filmed the blond boy.

Naruto was sitting on the ground, clad in black tights and a grey, faded t-shirt that was one or two sizes to small. Tan, smooth skin peeked forward between the grey and the black, revealing toned muscles. His long legs were straight before him as he leaned forward to reach his feet, which he did with ease. The blond made it look easy, but Sasuke didn't doubt for a second that it hurt. Naruto moved without difficulty, showing off his flexibility by stretching, pulling and bending.

Sasuke liked it when Naruto bent over.

Automatically, unconsciously, one of his big hands trailed downwards. A finger brushing against his clothed nipple. In under the covers, passing the laptop on his flat stomach. His eyes never left the screen, watching the video replay over and over again. His throat became dry, and he felt slightly light-headed. That didn't stop his hand from sneaking into his boxers, though.

"Mmh-aahh..."

His hand was soon damp from precum, which meant that he wouldn't have to bring his hand back up and spit on it. His eyes almost closed when his long fingers encircled his leaking shaft. It felt so _good_. Keeping a small grunt to himself, he moved up and down, his eyes once again concentrated on what was happening on his computer screen.

Naruto put one of his lean legs on the rail by the mirror wall, leaning forward beautifully. The focussed look on Naruto's face made Sasuke wonder if the ballerino was this dedicated to everything he did. If the teen would carry the same expression as he sucked Sasuke off. Sasuke's wet thumb ran over his leaking slit, making him gasp.

"Aah..." Sasuke bit his lip, trying to keep quiet even if no one was even near his room. He tightened his grip, fastening his pace as Naruto bent over to reach the floor with his back to the camera. Sasuke jerked, bucking his hips up as he moved over his hand. "_Naruto_..."

That cute ass against his crotch; those slender fingers running through his hair and down his neck; that pink tongue running over his nipples. _Oh, yes, Naruto. _He jerked his hand faster, his grip becoming tighter as his muscles tensed up. It felt good, great and beyond that; it was almost unbearable when he thought of a wet tongue and warm flesh.

He closed his eyes for a while, Naruto's lithe body under his eyelids, before he arched upwards, causing his computer to move with him. Exhaling air that his lungs didn't have, Sasuke came over his abs and fingers.

It took him quite some time before he used his clean hand to put away his laptop. He guessed that he could have made it – the pleasure – last longer, experimented a little more; but he found that even this four-minute masturbation had done wonders to his restless body.

He allowed himself to relax, pretending not to notice the guilt that whispered in his ear. How dirty wasn't that – jerking off while watching a complete stranger _stretching_?

Reassuring himself softly, thinking, _I'm probably not the only one_, he got out of bed to wash his hand.

As he put his hands under the hot water, the soap in his hands foaming, he couldn't help but glance in the mirror. He saw nothing but the usual – pale skin, dark eyes, slightly tousled hair. He knew that this wasn't the right time to stare into the mirror, as he wasn't very hot when he was tired.

He wondered what type of guys Naruto was drawn to, if he was drawn to the male gender at all. Still, with that body – those long legs, that cute butt and those lanky arms – he would make any girlfriend jealous. Therefore, Sasuke had once again used his very own logic as to why Naruto just _had _to be homosexual.

Would Naruto find him attractive? Perhaps Naruto was attracted to someone more like himself. Someone bright and happy; someone that matched his personality? From what Sasuke had gathered from that website, Naruto was very energetic and stubborn. Of course Naruto would need someone with the same mindset.

Then again, Sasuke's Godlike looks could always make up for it.

Snorting to himself, Sasuke turned off the water and dried his hands. He turned off the lights and went to bed, feeling satisfied. He couldn't say that he masturbated a lot, but he knew himself well enough to know what ticked his body off.

_Naruto..._

* * *

Sasuke's hands were red as he made it to the showers. He had been working out at the school's gym, his body hot and sticky with sweat. As he took off his shirt and shorts, he was thinking of tomorrow. Saturday, his day off from _everything_.

No school, no art classes, no soccer practice.

Strangely, he couldn't help but think that he would be bored out of his mind. Itachi wouldn't be at home, nor would his parents, and so he would be all alone to do absolutely nothing. A depressing thought, to be useless.

"Yo, Uchiha!"

Sasuke looked up, his dark eyes narrowing dangerously. His lips formed a thin line, but he nodded his greetings to his teammates. Kiba, Shino and Shikamaru moved into the locker room. The latter was looking as if he had been sitting still the entire gym pass, which probably was the case. Kiba was practically drenched in sweat, much like Sasuke himself.

"What you up to tomorrow? Heard from some chick that you don't do that pussy-ass drawing anymore."

Sasuke glared at the brown-haired nuisance. "I'm not taking any courses at the moment if that's what you mean, Inuzuka."

"Yeah." Kiba undressed clumsily, throwing his clothes everywhere. "So you free?"

Sasuke, unsure what to say to the moron, nodded discreetly. Hopefully, Kiba would miss it and think that he was ignored. Of course, Lady Luck had never liked him very much.

"Nice – I've got some movies we wanna watch. Your place? Bet you have, like, a mini-theatre at your place or something."

Sasuke opened his mouth to protest, but realised that he would gain nothing from lying. The cinema that had replaced one of the guest rooms in the mansionwas almost never used, but he guessed that Kiba expected it from him. Sasuke didn't mind either – that way, he would have a reason for not sitting close to the dog-loving brunet in a couch.

As he made his way into the showers, he was accompanied by Shikamaru and Shino – as Kiba was still struggling with getting out of his clothes. "Oi, Nara," Sasuke spoke lowly. The brown-haired genius looked up, blinking lazily. "Make sure that you don't show up too early."

Instead of asking why they couldn't come 'too early', Shikamaru nodded once and entered one of the booths. Sasuke was relieved, because he couldn't exactly say that he wanted to spend the morning trying to draw Namikaze Naruto – a boy he had only seen on stage and on pictures.

Sasuke snorted quietly to himself, wondering when he had become so fanatical.

* * *

As if having been awakened by cold water, Sasuke flinched at the sound of someone knocking on the door. He had taken his pen and papers downstairs, to the kitchen, so that he would hear when his teammates arrived. The big kitchen was next to the hall, and so he got down from the bar stool to open the door.

Kiba practically pushed himself inside, forcing Sasuke out of the way with his wet body. "It's freaking pouring out there!"

Sasuke blinked, taking a few steps back and crossing his arms over his chest. "I can tell," he responded impassively.

Kiba ignored his comment, and instead got out of his soaked jacket and sneakers. Right behind him, Shikamaru and Chouji entered. They weren't as wet, and Sasuke noticed the folded umbrella in Shikamaru's hand. Obviously, there hadn't been room for Kiba under there. Sasuke smirked.

"Eh, dude, got some new clothes for me?" Kiba gestured towards his own body, gripping the wet shirt he was wearing and pulling it off his body. Shikamaru sighed behind Kiba, murmuring something, as he tried to undo the damp shoelaces on his sneakers.

Sasuke nodded towards the stairs and let Kiba walk up before him. Before following the brunet upstairs, Sasuke motioned for Shikamaru and Chouji where the living room was.

Upstairs, Kiba was already trying to figure out which room was Sasuke's. "Your house is confusing. Don't you have any 'keep out'-signs or anything?"

"No." Sasuke walked past the loud boy and opened the right door. "Here. Don't touch anything."

Kiba walked inside, unbuckling his jeans at the same time. "Wow, it's fucking bright in here!" He spun around, taking in the room of a becoming artist. He looked out through the big windows, his eyes roaming over everything. "I expected something more, like, you know, the Batcave!"

Sasuke opened his wardrobe, skimming through to find something that he could live without. It wasn't hard to find something that would fit Kiba, as they had the same body type – tall, broad shoulders, well-sculptured muscles. He found a shirt and a pair of jeans that he hadn't worn in ages, and figured that the dog-lover could have them.

When he turned around, he realised why Kiba had gone so quiet. With the voice of a cold-hearted serial killer, Sasuke asked, "What are you doing?"

Kiba dropped the paper with a yelp, turning around to face Sasuke. He let out a chuckle, scratching the back of his neck in an awkward manor. "I was...was just...hehe, looking."

"Don't look through my garbage bin. It's creepy." He threw Kiba the clothes, and the other laughed again.

"I didn't know you knew Naruto, man."

Sasuke paled, wondering how Kiba had figured out who it was on the half-finished drawings. "I...don't."

Kiba blinked, the corner of his mouth twitching a little. He ran a hand through his already ruffled hair. "Oh... Now, that's _creepy_."

Sasuke glared. "Last time I checked, this was a free country."

Kiba shrugged, picking up one of the papers from the floor again. "I like 'em, though. You're really good – they almost look like photos!"

Unable to answer politely to the compliment, Sasuke walked towards the door, opening it and waiting for Kiba to get out. Getting the hint, Kiba got dressed quickly before running downstairs. Sasuke followed, refusing to feel embarrassed over his drawings of Naruto.

"You know, dude," Kiba said when Sasuke caught up with him. "I know Naruto a bit. We played soccer for a while when we were kids. My mom knows his mom really well; they meet up whenever they can."

Sasuke stared at Kiba, wondering 'so?'

"Perhaps you would like me to introduce you to him? Like, next time he has a show or something. You know he dances, right? I bet he's turned into a wimp, with all those splits and pirouettes." Kiba laughed roughly, patting Sasuke's shoulder.

Sasuke brushed the hand away, scowling slightly at the body contact. "You wanted to watch movies, no?"

"Yes, Captain."

They walked into the living room, finding Chouji and Shikamaru. They looked up when Kiba and Sasuke returned, and got up from the couch. Shikamaru had been at Sasuke's place once before, for a group work in school, and so, he didn't look too unfamiliar with the new surroundings.

"Theatre room, over here," Sasuke said in his normally bored voice. He opened the door for them, leaning against it.

"I've got popcorn," Chouji informed them all, as if he would actually share. He handed one of the bags to Kiba, knowing that Shikamaru wouldn't want anything. The three boys sat down in the red armchairs, in the middle of the theatre. Sasuke closed the door, sitting down on the edge of the row to save himself from catching stupid.

Kiba jumped over his seat to start the film. "First movie, about a big-ass monkey and hot girls."

Sasuke refrained from telling Kiba that gorillas were primates. It would only complicate things. Sasuke would never enjoy complicated things, and was very sure that Shikamaru felt the same, as he didn't correct the brown-haired idiot either. He was unsure if Chouji knew such things.

The brunet slumped down next to Sasuke, much to the Uchiha's disgrace. "So," Kiba drawled. His voice was nicely covered by the movie sounds as the introduction started. Sasuke only heard because the dog-loving moron was leaning into his personal space. "For how long have you been stalking Naruto?"

That didn't even deserve an answer in Sasuke's world, and so he kept his gaze on the big screen.

"Ne? You've seen him on stage or what?"

"Yes, Kiba. Now shut up."

The rest of the movie was spent in silence. Shikamaru's snores weren't audible over the screams of the actresses or the roars from the giant gorilla. Chouji kept quiet, munching on his popcorn. Kiba let out barks of laughter at the most inappropriate times, but didn't bother Sasuke otherwise.

All in all, watching movies with these guys wasn't too awful.

* * *

Two days later, Sasuke found Kiba on his doorstep. He blinked, wondering what the boy wanted. It was late evening, and Sasuke would be having dinner with his family in a few minutes. Chouji and Shikamaru were out of sight, and Sasuke assumed that the brunet had shown up alone.

"Busy?"

Sasuke scowled, his lips turning into a thin line. "Yes."

Kiba shrugged. "Okay. Just wanted to tell you that I'm picking you up Saturday – or was it Friday? – seven o'clock. We're going to meet up with Naruto after his show."

Sasuke's heart skipped a beat, leaving a painful feeling in his chest. He unconsciously brought up a hand and started massaging over his sore heart. "You couldn't tell me over the phone?"

"Dude, I totally don't have you phone number!" Kiba dug up his cellphone, ready to get Sasuke's number.

The Uchiha waited a minute, wondering if he could get away with slamming the door in Kiba's face. By the determined look on Kiba's face, Sasuke guessed that he wouldn't. Therefore, he gave the other his cellphone number. Afterwards, he felt nothing but regret – the grin on Kiba's face promised trouble.

"I'll see you in school tomorrow," Kiba said, putting down his cellphone again. Kiba continued, as if Sasuke had thanked him for coming here and tell him about Saturday – or Friday. "Don't worry 'bout me, I was taking a walk with Akamaru anyway."

Sasuke could see Kiba's dog on the gravel path that lead towards the main house in the Uchiha Compound, where they were standing. It was _huge_. Sasuke quickly closed the door, ignoring the bark that came from the other side.

He was having a date with Naruto on Saturday. Well, not a date. Kiba would be there too, thank God. Otherwise, there would be nothing but awkward silence. Sasuke had never been forced to participate in conversations – people often talked to him, but they never expected any replies in return. He was Uchiha Sasuke; he barely spoke with his closest family.

"Honey, who was that at the door?" Mikoto came out in the hall, a white apron over her navy blue cocktail dress. Sasuke didn't answer immediately, which made Mikoto assume that it was just one of their relatives in the compound. "Will you set the table for me? Your father will be home soon."

"Where is Itachi?" Sasuke asked, wondering if the evil genius would be at home tonight.

If Itachi didn't come home, Sasuke was free to relax and dwell in the happiness and nervousity that slowly grew in his chest. If he was at home, Sasuke would have to lock himself up in his room and stay there, surrounded by half-finished pictures of Naruto. At the moment, Sasuke didn't want to go back to his room just yet. There, he would only face his failed projects. Outside his room, he still felt as if there was a chance that he could succeed with his drawing.

"I don't know. Put a plate on his place as well, if he shows up." Mikoto walked back into the kitchen, Sasuke following. There, he set the table and listened to his mother speak. She had a lot to tell him about her day and the girl that one of his cousins had introduced this morning. "–and they have been dating for months now! Soon, there will be another wedding here…"

Sasuke stopped listening. The entire Uchiha Clan loved weddings. With weddings came more members to the clan. Of course, not all the couples were allowed to get married. Sasuke knew, for example, that his father's cousin hadn't been allowed to marry the man she wanted. Then again, the man had been uneducated and poor. Two things the Uchiha frowned upon; lack of education and poverty. It was foolish of her to introduce the man of her dreams – that way; she wasn't allowed to meet him ever again.

It was sad, Sasuke knew. Unfair and unreal in some people's lives. It was the way it was within the Uchiha tribe's walls. Having been raised with these morals and rules, Sasuke saw nothing wrong with it. He had been born into this, and he wouldn't change it for anything in the world.

"Sasuke."

Sasuke looked up, seeing his father entering the kitchen. He looked oddly pleased. Behind Fugaku, one of Sasuke's uncles stood. Sasuke rose from the chair he had slumped down onto, almost making the chair topple backwards. "Father. Madara-oji."

Madara smirked, nodding his way. "I heard from Itachi-kun that you want to focus on the soccer."

Sasuke refrained from scowling. He had never uttered such a thing; soccer was something he liked to do on his pastime. He loved it because it wasn't binding. He loved it because his father had never cared about it – it was unscathed.

"Madara has talked to your trainer, Sasuke. He mentioned that you are skilled enough to become a professional. Kakashi-kun will call a few agents from universities and colleges in Japan." Fugaku smirked; probably thinking of the praise coach Hatake had given him for raising such a talented son.

"Sir, I–"

"Don't worry, Sasuke-kun," Madara cut off, a dangerous glint in his pitch black eyes.

Sasuke clenched his jaw together, keeping from shouting out the truth. Itachi was nothing but a cold-blooded bastard. Sasuke didn't want Fugaku to ruin soccer for him. Of course, he wasn't even allowed to think such thoughts, not now, when uncle Madara had gone such lengths to make his name known in the world of soccer.

"How sweet of you, Madara-san," Mikoto gushed. A faint blush covered her cheeks as steam rose from the pot in her hands. "I hope it wasn't a bother."

"Of course not, of course not," Madara said. Sasuke stared as the tall man turned to look at him, the smirk still in place as he narrowed his eyes. Madara knew. Sasuke knew. Fugaku didn't understand and Mikoto didn't know. Itachi was a true bastard.

Sasuke damned his brother to the deep pits of Hell.

* * *

**To Be Continued**


	4. Sunspots

Been in India for a few weeks, but I'm back now. I must admit that watching 'Black Swan' yesterday did nothing good to my self-esteem, but it did indeed leave me with a meh-feeling towards UPL and its sister.

This isn't proof-read at all.

* * *

**Untouched: The Persistence of Loss**

**Written by Venerate**

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* * *

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**Sunspots**

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* * *

**

Heavy mumbles were running through the cafeteria. Despite the high ceiling, Sasuke was sure that the many loud voices were reaching it without problems. The volume was as high as it always would be in a high school cafeteria, private or not. Yet, Sasuke found himself here each day, avoiding people until he found himself an empty table to sit by.

Today, there were two empty tables, and Sasuke chose the one that was furthest away from the others. He held his tray steadily, his eyes trained on his spot, making his way through the too thin aisle. The bright walls seemed to glare at him today, and he was happy that the empty table was placed against the only wall that wasn't white. He sat down, leaning slightly against the cold brick wall. When the school built a new cafeteria, they didn't bother to remove the brick wall that was, originally, the outside of the school.

"There you are."

Sasuke looked up, wondering whom on Earth was talking to _him_. He wasn't all too surprised upon seeing Kiba, Chouji and Shikamaru. With them, stood a strange-looking teen. Despite the high collar of the jacket and those silly sunglasses, Sasuke recognised the boy as Aburame Shino. Sasuke kept down a sigh, not really sure what he had done to make them feel welcome at his table.

They sat down, starting to eat immediately as if this was everyday occurrence. Sasuke was surprised that Kiba could fit so much food in his mouth at once. When Chouji commented the food's quality, Sasuke didn't listen. He tried not to make eye contact, thinking that they would get the hint if he ignored them long enough.

It didn't work.

"Can we sit here?"

_Hell no. _

Sasuke closed his eyes, sighing through his nose. Had he been another person, he would probably be delighted to see the two most popular girls stand there, their red trays in thin hands and faking shy smiles. Immediately, Kiba scooted over, closer to Sasuke, leaving room for Yamanaka Ino and Haruno Sakura. They sat down, acting as if they didn't know how attractive they were.

Not that Sasuke found them appealing. On the contrary, he found the girls to be quite hypocritical and dishonest. One second, both girls would be blushing, acting as innocent as they were the day they were born. The other, they would be yelling at each other because the other had 'accidently' touched the pretty boy they were competing about.

By the looks he was receiving from the young females, he guessed that he was their new target. As if his life could become any worse. He pretended not to notice how the blonde girl tried to catch his attention, and instead returned to staring down on his tray. The plastic spoon in his hand felt fragile, and he resisted the urge to snap it in two.

The yoghurt had lumps in it. Small fruity lumps, formerly in various colours but now covered with thick yoghurt. A small part of him considered throwing the blue cup at Kiba and see what happened. That would certainly remove the girls' attention from him.

Sasuke didn't look up once during lunch, waiting for the bell to ring so that he could disappear into the student body.

* * *

"Where are you going?"

Sasuke looked over his shoulder, scowling slightly at the question. He was sweating and felt disgusting – he was in dire need of a shower. He didn't bother to answer his trainer, and instead turned fully to face Kakashi.

"Training isn't over for you just yet, Sasuke." Kakashi was smiling, the eye that was visible sparkling with mischief. "Your uncle had a talk with me. To be honest, I didn't know that you were thinking of taking soccer to a professional level."

Neither did Sasuke. His hands, once limp and warm by his sides, turned into fists in anger. "What do you want, Hatake?"

Kakashi tilted his head slightly. "I want five laps from you. After that, you should go shower – because you really stink."

Sasuke gritted his teeth, moving to the sidelines.

"Oh, and Sasuke!"

Sasuke didn't look over his shoulder, knowing that the silver-haired man would continue anyway.

"Make sure to find a training partner who is willing to stay for more training!"

And with that, Kakashi moved off the field and disappeared into the locker room. Sasuke sped up. A tingling feeling was running through his body, making him shiver and growl. He wanted nothing but run to Kakashi and reveal the truth. How his older brother was a manipulating bastard that just _loved_ torturing him. How soccer was nothing more than a hobby.

"Bastard," Sasuke panted. His throat was already dry, his body using energy to keep his anger at bay. "Fucking, fucking _bastard_."

* * *

When Friday rolled around, the weather had taken a horrible turn. Sasuke glared up at the sky, his bad mood not improving. Students ran over the parking lot, books and bags held over their heads as water poured over them. Everything seemed grey.

Everything but the sanctuary of his room, where he was allowed to stare at the photogenic Namikaze Naruto. He couldn't very well lock himself in there, knowing that absence wouldn't look good in his parents' eyes.

Instead, he sat in the warmth of his car, looking out over the school parking lot with sadistic glee. Not a single one of his fellow students had brought an umbrella, he noted.

Grabbing his bag over one of his broad shoulders, he took the navy blue umbrella in his other hand and got out of the car. Unfolding it quickly, he was saved from the heavy rain. Sometimes it paid off to watch the news while eating breakfast. According to the handsome weather man, the rain would continue to fall into the next week.

Not that Sasuke minded.

"Uchiha!"

"_Oomph_!" Sasuke, on his way to lock the car doors, was tackled straight into the vehicle. His bag fell to the ground, but his grip on the umbrella didn't falter. He_ really_ didn't want to get wet.

"Sorry, man!"

Sasuke recognised Kiba's voice perfectly well, turning around and pushing the boy off him. He leaned down, grabbing his bag. It had turned damp, and Sasuke dearly hoped that the books within were unharmed. "What do you want, moron?"

"Share that umbrella with me, won't you? It's raining!"

"Really?"

Sasuke pushed himself off the car, picking up a fast pace to get away from the brown-haired idiot. Kiba followed quickly, trying to get some room under Sasuke's big, blue umbrella. As soon as Kiba managed to get under the shelter, Sasuke pushed him out. It wasn't big enough for them both, unless they wanted to walk so close that their shoulders were brushing. Sasuke didn't want that.

"Dude! So fucking brutal!"

Sasuke didn't reply, deeming the statement unworthy his respond. Kiba soon realised that the bag over his head would be penetrated by the water, and thus all his books would get ruined. Sasuke was glad when the brunette waved his goodbye before dashing towards the entrance.

Once inside the building, Sasuke folded together his umbrella and made his way through the mass of teens. He was one of the few that looked unaffected by the rain. When he stopped by his locker to get rid of his umbrella and his messenger bag, he narrowed his eyes at the poster that was put on the wall next to one of the classroom doors.

He recognised the title of the show that was advertised. He had seen it a few weeks ago with his parents and brother. It was being held once again, this weekend. This Saturday. Sasuke hid a faint smile on his features, nervousity dominating the annoyance he had felt minutes ago. It was the show him and Kiba were going to see tomorrow.

Starring Namikaze Naruto.

Walking up to the poster, having closed his locker, Sasuke looked it over. A picture of Naruto was on the poster, and Sasuke had seen it on Uzumaki Kushina's website. Naruto standing in a proud pose, his eyes looking up towards the ceiling.

Sasuke felt a pang of annoyance that was bubbling under the joy of meeting Naruto, when he noticed that some smartass had added butterfly wings to Naruto's lean form and written the word 'fairy' above his head. Immediately, Sasuke's big hand came up to rip the poster down.

The sound of paper being ripped attracted a few looks, but he glared at anyone who dared looking. He knew, deep down, that male ballet-dancers shouldn't expect any less but being called all kinds of demeaning insults. However, he found it unfair. Naruto didn't deserve that.

He passed a garbage can that was nailed to the wall, throwing the poster there.

When he reached the classroom, he decided that his life sucked. The classroom was almost filled, leaving a very few options where to sit. He didn't like sitting in the far back, where the troublemakers sat and whispered among themselves, acting tough and ignoring the teacher. He didn't want to sit in the far front either, as that way; the teacher would notice his every movement.

"Oi, Sasuke."

Sasuke looked over at the calm, tired tone. Shikamaru was sitting next to Shino, an empty chair on his left.

"We saved you a seat."

Nodding his thanks, Sasuke sat down in the middle, next to the brown-haired genius. He knew that Shikamaru was a part of the shogi club and often joined the math club when he didn't want to go home and face his bothersome mother.

He picked up his books and waited for Sarutobi Asuma to enter the room. He wasn't surprised to see that Kiba was absent – he guessed that math wasn't the brunet's forte.

"Asuma is going to be late." Shikamaru sighed. "I saw him with Kurenai-sensei in the cafeteria."

Sasuke closed his eyes at the information, irked to hear that he would have to wait. However, he picked up his laptop from his bag and turned it on. He saw a few others picking up their laptops as well, probably thinking that if Uchiha Sasuke would be using his, it was okay for them too.

Sasuke opened one of his favourite pages, knowing that no one would see what he was doing. The only one next to him was Shikamaru, who was already sleeping peacefully. The students behind him had already started up some sort of game, taking all of their attention away from what happened on the rows in front of them.

There were no new pictures of Naruto up yet, but he guessed that there would be by tomorrow night. Uzumaki Kushina was really quick to put up pictures after a show. A small smirk threatened to emerge on his face – to think that he was going to see Naruto.

Soon, really soon, he would be allowed to hold out his hand and introduce himself as Uchiha Sasuke. Now, if that didn't impress the blonde dancer, Sasuke's looks certainly would. Even if Naruto had a boyfriend, Sasuke would sweep him off his feet–

"Good morning, class!"

Sasuke schooled his features, a grimace close to appearing. He immediately turned off his computer and put it back down. Asuma didn't allow any technology in the room besides calculators.

The class started, but Sasuke didn't get anything done. He was in a whirlwind of emotions. He could let go the fact that his brother had been so unfair. He couldn't let go that what had been his hobby – his, and only his, without expectations – had turned into something that was to be ruled by the clan. He was angry with himself for letting this happen _again_.

A tingling, nervous feeling was there as well, making his mood even worse. Nervousity about tomorrow evening, when he would meet Naruto for the first time. They would look each other in the eyes, and Sasuke would offer his hand to the younger male.

He felt stupid. This tingling feeling was making him stupid, he was sure. With these stupid thoughts, imagining tomorrow and putting together scenes in his head. He was behaving so stupidly. Grabbing his pencil, he started taking notes of what Asuma wrote on the board. It appeared that they were supposed to finish the chapter about geometry today.

Knowing Asuma, there would probably be a test by the end of this month. Sasuke wasn't too concerned – he knew how to do this. Logic solved with logic. It was simple, once you got the basics. He could almost guarantee that he would get an A+ on this test. At least his brain hadn't turned into mush completely. He really didn't wish to become a lovesick puppy. He knew how ill-fitting it looked on most girls, and could imagine how awful it would look on _him_.

"Uchiha-kun? Will you come and solve this on the board?"

Sasuke looked up, casting a brief look on the mathematics problem on the board. He gave a curt nod before standing and walking over to Asuma, who gave him the thick, black pen. With ease, Sasuke wrote handsome numbers on the white surface. Thanks to his skills with drawing, his writing style was more or less flawless.

"Correct. Well done, Uchiha-kun. Now, Shikamaru, get your lazy ass up and answer this one."

Sasuke watched as the tall, somewhat lanky Shikamaru got up from his desk. With tired steps, the brunet walked over to the board and took the pen from their teacher. He solved the problem with ridiculous simplicity, making it look easy. Sasuke was jealous, because he knew that it came naturally to Shikamaru, while he, Sasuke himself, had to study to get so flawless answers.

He didn't mind studying, as it was something he had done his entire life. Since he was a part of the Uchiha clan and brother to Itachi, the majority assumed that he was great at every subject, when in reality, all he did when he wasn't drawing or playing soccer was studying. Of course that would lead to perfect grades and answers to all questions.

* * *

Sasuke wasn't nervous often. Sometimes, when he did new things – such as entering a new subject at school, or learning how to drive – he was nervous that he would fail. He was nervous before big games, afraid that he wouldn't be capable of leading his team to victory. He was nervous today.

His nervousity took a very ugly form, something akin to hidden anger and frustration. Many of his relatives claimed that he got that side from his mother, who got nervous before tea gatherings and dinners and acted much as a poisonous snake before the guests arrived.

So when Kiba arrived by the gates of the Uchiha Compound, Sasuke clenched his jaws together and offered a polite nod. The brown-haired male's car was nothing impressive – an old, rusty blue thing that seemed to be surrounded by noise. It wasn't what Sasuke was used to ride around in, but he didn't mind. He guessed that it would work, even if he wanted to make an impression on Naruto.

He folded his wet umbrella together before sliding down in the passenger seat. He was just about to throw it back on the backseat, when he noticed that Shino and Shikamaru was cramped together there offering him mute hello's.

"We're picking Chouji up as well," Kiba said. "I thought that it would be gay for just us to go, so I decided to bring an odd number."

Sasuke blinked; surprised by the thought Kiba had given it. "How genius of you," he commented, his tone sarcastic. All he got in reply was a harsh push from the dog-lover. Sasuke leaned back and stared out through the window, inhaling the damp air inside of the car.

He could barely see anything outside, but could make out beautiful houses as they drove out from the richer part of Konoha. Silence filled the car, and Sasuke was glad, since that meant that he wouldn't have to make a conversation.

They arrived ten minutes later, in what looked like the perfect suburban. Sasuke narrowed his eyes and stared out through the wet window. The houses were all medium-sized; well-kept gardens surrounded by different fences. A few kids, clad in neon-coloured rain coats and boots, were jumping up and down by the side walk. Water splashed around them. Sasuke could see how their mouths were open, but he couldn't hear their joyous laughter.

The car suddenly tipped slightly to the other side, causing Sasuke to grip the handle by the window in surprise. He looked back, seeing the overweight boy climbing inside and forcing himself down next to Shikamaru. He smiled sheepishly at the Uchiha but received nothing in reply.

"God, this weather is only getting worse," Kiba grunted out. He leaned forward, trying to get a better view.

"It's been raining for _days_. I can't see how you can be surprised," Shikamaru commented. Sasuke quietly agreed. The weather man had stated that the rain would continue into the next week. It was unusual with this kind of weather in Konoha, but it was a nice change. "Are we there yet?"

Kiba grunted. "Ten more minutes. It's almost impossible to drive through this shit."

Sasuke leaned back, drumming his fingertips against his thigh. Ten minutes. Ten minutes, and he would get to see Naruto again. After the show, he would speak to him. It was almost surreal. Naruto was almost a like a dream – or, maybe, a concept. He wasn't sure, but he hoped that the other would live up to his expectations.

Once they had bonded enough, Sasuke would kidnap the blond and take him home. There, after a few rounds of teenage sex, Naruto would model for him. The thought of Naruto modelling for him almost had the same erotic feeling to it as having sex with the ballerino.

"Yell if you see a parking spot!"

Sasuke almost flinched at the loud volume of the brunet. Chouji let out something that sounded suspiciously much as a grunt, but Kiba seemed to understand what it meant. The Inuzuka took his time to park, as if he had just gotten his licence. It took at least five minutes, and by then, the car wasn't even parked straight.

"Stick together, everyone, I don't want to be seen with Mr. Faggot all alone," Kiba said and got out of the car, an umbrella already unfolded.

Sasuke and the others followed suit, heavy water pouring over their umbrellas. As soon as Kiba had locked the vehicle, they jogged to the big building. There was a small line by the entrance, but it only took half a minute before everyone were pushing their way forward in the lobby. The expensive tickets were bought, Sasuke sponsoring Kiba's as a silent thank you. Kiba didn't enjoy the fact that a _dude _had bought his ticket, but was too cheap to argue.

They found their seats easily, but it was rather complicated to pass all the sitting businessmen and their families. Kiba barged his way forward, loudly growling out 'excuse me' before pressing forward to get to their seats. Shikamaru even chuckled at the soccer player's annoyance.

Once they were seated, Kiba was talking again. "I haven't seen Naruto in _years._ He was pretty cool when we were kids, though. I bet he's all snobbish and preppy now, like Uchiha here." There was a slight pause before Kiba continued, "Hey! You would be perfect for each other!"

"Shut up." Sasuke hit the brown-haired moron over the head, causing Kiba to curse. A satisfied feeling ran through his body – whether it came from hitting Kiba or hearing him say that he would be a suitable partner for Naruto, he was unsure.

The lights slowly dimmed out, and the talking in the audience soon turned into inaudible murmurs. Then, silence as heavy curtains parted on the big stage. Sasuke licked his lips, recognising the first scene. Despite knowing exactly what was going to happen in the show, he felt anxious to see it again. It had been rather beautiful, with pleasant music and graceful dancers.

Kiba shifted in his seat when a petite female and Naruto entered the stage, holding each others' hands. Sasuke guessed that Naruto would play the correct role as main male character this time, not the female part. When the music started, the annoying soccer player next to him leaned closer, muttering,

"I bet he'd look good with you, dude, so I'll help you."

Sasuke couldn't help but feel grateful.

* * *

"Kiba. Kiba! For fuck's sake, stop_ pushing_ me." Shikamaru growled, trying to avoid getting shoved forward once again. His annoyance was visible in his auburn eyes, but his posture was lazy as ever. Sasuke suspected that the teen had been sleeping on and off during the show. "It's not going any faster, so stop it."

Sasuke, on the other hand, felt that he too wanted to start pushing and shoving, but his face revealed nothing of this. He stayed perfectly quiet and let Kiba handle the crowd that never seemed to get up from their red chairs to leave the auditorium.

He wasn't as nervous anymore, trying to find ease in the fact that Naruto seemed like a very easy-going person despite the picture of craziness that Kiba wanted to paint up. No, it was his impatience that had him feel a bit irritated about the slow audience. To hide this from the grinning Kiba, the eating Chouji and the sighing Shino, he put his hands in his pockets and kept his gaze on his goal – the big doors that led to the lobby. He was pretty sure that Shikamaru could sense or see his mix of emotions, being the genius he was.

"Hey, Kiba!" Chouji's cry for his friend rang in Sasuke's ear, and the Uchiha threw a dark glare over his shoulder. The orange-haired boy failed to notice, his eyes instead on the brown-haired idiot that jumped over the chairs to get to the exit faster. None of the boys followed Kiba's example, instead moving forward with penguin-steps. Sasuke found that he would rather suffer impatience and nervousity for a little while longer than jumping over seats like an uneducated fool.

The lobby was very busy once they reached it, full with people queuing for their fur coats and discussing the pure beauty in the human body as it performed an entire story. Sasuke could honestly say that he hadn't paid much attention to the actual story, but mostly enjoyed the way Naruto's adolescent body had moved to the beautiful and dramatic music. His thoughts had mainly centred on the blond boy's muscles and sweaty skin, how his fair hair had covered azure eyes.

"Let's just wait here. We can get our jackets later," Kiba suggested.

They stopped by the exit, glancing out through the big glass doors to see nothing but pouring rain. Sasuke barely noticed Chouji sneaking away to get something from the little kiosk that belonged to the cinema next doors.

"Man, so many old people," Kiba voiced up. "Like, shouldn't they be at work at this hour? It's three in the afternoon."

Sasuke chose not to comment on this. He looked around to see that there were a lot of adults rather than people in their own age. However, the time when Sasuke had first seen this performance, there had been plenty of girls and boys from the private school which he attended, but the performance had been in the evening that time. He recognised a few of the people, most of the audience being those who could afford taking an afternoon off for personal pleasures.

"You think he'll be much longer?" Shikamaru asked Kiba with a tired and bored tone.

"Nah. He never was that careful 'bout his looks. Mama said that he shouldn't have changed much."

Sasuke didn't know what to say to that. One look at the posters that had graced his school, or the picture on Uzumaki Kushina's website and he had automatically assumed the opposite. The blond hair looked so soft and so perfectly styled, a few strands always tickling his eyes or cheekbones. Sasuke could also very well tell that Naruto wore make-up at stage, like that Hyuuga and all the other dancers. It had to be a pain to get off, he thought.

It wasn't until the lobby had cleared off that they saw someone that didn't belong into the current crowd. It was a performer – more precisely, Naruto.

Immediately, Sasuke's posture straightened. He brushed off some invisibly dirt from his shirt and tried to think of something else than having Naruto pushed up against one of those mirror-walls in the younger teen's dance studio. Preferably naked, panting and sweating.

These thoughts were instantly erased when Naruto pushed his way through the crowd with an absent-minded look on his handsome face. His eyes were read and puffy, his scarred cheeks wet. He heard Kiba speak up behind him, probably trying to gain Naruto's attention. The ballerino, still dressed in stage clothes and wearing those thin ballet shoes, didn't seem to care.

Instead, Naruto ran outside, pushing the golden-framed glass doors open to get outside. The rain was still coming down in big, frequent drops of blue. The blond hair became a blur, and so did the rest of the athletic body. The young Uchiha turned to face the others, Shikamaru sighing and Shino still saying nothing. Kiba was grimacing.

"Weird."

Sasuke couldn't help but agree.

* * *

**To Be Continued**


	5. Even Deeper

**The Persistence of Loss**

**Written by Venerate**

* * *

**Even Deeper**

* * *

His room was turning into something akin to a paper recycling station. It was early afternoon, and it was still raining outside. He couldn't say that he enjoyed the never-ending downpour, but it was a good excuse to stay inside instead of helping his mother in the garden. From where he sat by the window, he could see her in the red raincoat, moving heavy ceramic pots from their usual places. Itachi had been helping her earlier with the heavier ones, carrying them to the veranda for protection.

Even though Sasuke's computer was up and running before him, he had yet to touch it. Normally, he would have turned on some music and started with his homework, but not today. He was still a little winded up from the performance yesterday. In his hand was a pen, and splotches of ink was littering the sketch pad next to the laptop.

Just like the first time, Naruto wouldn't leave him alone.

This time around, however, there were tears and scars littering his mind. He hadn't seen the scars so up close before, and they seemed darker in real life. There had been tears. Naruto had been crying. The upset face, however briefly Sasuke had actually seen it among all those people, was just as fascinating – if not more – than seeing the blue eyes filled with mirth and mischief.

The lips had been parted, the eyes wide under knitted, fair eyebrows. Naruto sure was an interesting person. Perhaps not the prettiest boy, but certainly appealing. Sasuke had drawn and painted tears on human faces before. Tears of joy, of anger, of sadness – mostly as a practice. It wasn't tears that attracted his attention most of the time, but the actual expression behind it.

He vaguely recalled Naruto running past in only his dancing outfit. He had been about a head shorter than Sasuke; the young Uchiha had noticed when the blond teen came up close. Dark eyes glanced out through the window as he tried to wipe the picture out of his mind. The rain made his windows blurry.

He tilted his head to the side slightly, noticing that his mother was still fighting with moving the pots of amaryllis to the covered veranda. She was wearing rubber boots that matched her red raincoat.

Naruto had been wearing his ballet shoes when he ran outside. It must have been cold.

Sasuke began to sketch without really thinking, biting on the inside of his cheek as he cluttered down two feet. The feet were wearing ballet shoes, and soon he was drawing ribbons climbing up lean, naked calves. Soon, he had sketched a lower body, blue ink smudging the edges here and there. The hips were tricky, as they weren't curvy, but still noticeable on a body that lacked any and all unnecessary body fat.

He almost dropped the pen when he heard his cellphone let out a vibrating _beep_. He sent a glare towards his bag, as if whoever sent him a text would sense it. Getting up, he dropped the pen on the sketch book and got over to fetch his phone. It took some digging around in his messenger bag before he found it, wondering if it was Itachi needing a ride.

A slender, dark eyebrow shot up upon seeing it was _The Moron_, who had texted him. Opening it, he noticed that Kiba was capable of sounding idiotic through written words as well. There was a series of emoticons that he didn't understand, and then there was a question, written in awful chat language. Sasuke texted back a simple yes, stating that he _would _mind if Kiba showed up tomorrow afternoon.

Sasuke didn't even make it back to his desk before the phone sounded in his hand again. This time, more incoherent rambling, and then a time. The young Uchiha guessed that if Kiba showed up, he couldn't really stop him. He didn't really want the other near him, but he guessed that, since he needed to study as well, he could help Kiba at the same time.

As long as the moron didn't snoop in his dustbin again, they would be all right.

* * *

The water pouring over him was warm, so warm that it left his sensitive skin rosy red. Nevertheless, he felt no urgency to leave his place under the hard spray. He was currently rinsing his hair from conditioner, running his long fingers through the silky hair in a backwards motion, keeping it out of his face.

Sunday morning showers should be sacred, Sasuke thought.

His eyes were closed as he leaned against the wet wall, his hands caressing down over his body slowly. Over a muscular chest, rubbing past pale nipples, tracing the abdominal muscles carefully. He let out a soft grunt as his thumb ran over the soft pubes that began in a thin trail under his belly button. He could feel himself working something up, something that couldn't be prevented.

Much like the night before, pictures of Naruto was what was taking over. Despite the fact that he was disappointed not to have actually met the danseur, he tried to keep the frustration at bay. He didn't want Itachi to notice and tease him endlessly about it. No, instead, he sucked it up as well as he could, and tried not to think of it. He would ask Kiba to call Naruto again. Maybe then Naruto would tell Kiba what had happened.

Sasuke didn't want to think of that either. He wanted to think of parted lips around the head of his dick. The tongue flicking over the slit much like his index finger did now. He wanted to see the mouth being full with his cock, perhaps even seeing the head poking at the inside of one of the scarred cheeks. "Aahh," and he wrapped his fingers firmly around the hardening erection.

Under the spray of water, everything seemed smoother. His movements were slow, going from the base and upwards, his lips parting as he let drips of water slide inside of his dry mouth. He was getting excited by merely thinking of the ballerino, wondering what kind of sounds Naruto would make if he let Sasuke take him.

"Tss-ahh…"

Sasuke's other hand joined the first, and he cupped his balls with the one that wasn't busy. Moving up and down with firm strokes, he imagined a much tanner hand working on him. He had yet to hear Naruto's voice, as all videos on Uzumaki Kushina's website were mute, but he could imagine a rough, loud tone that matched the blond teen's personality.

Sasuke visualised the younger male turned-on and eager, inexperienced or perhaps very experienced. It was hard to say, but Sasuke wouldn't mind having a skilled mouth kissing him, sucking him. On the contrary, it made his hand work even faster. Up and down; his smooth skin followed with each movement, his other hand caressing his balls.

Perhaps Naruto had never even thought of offering someone a blowjob. Oh, how Sasuke would love to be the first. He would love to teach and tell, instruct and whisper encouragements. He wouldn't mind Naruto sucking on his dick, sometimes too hard and sometimes too little. Sloppily, Naruto would bob his head forth and back with high hopes of satisfying Sasuke.

Arching his back, he imagined a blond head between his legs. A low, guttural noise escaped his mouth, and he came all over himself. Shuddering, his eyes closed as semen hit his toned abdomen hard.

His breath was ragged as he tried to regain his posture under the spray. Goosebumps ran over his skin, regardless of the warm water. Muttering some obscenities, he washed it away with a satisfied smirk on his face. He knew that, despite the pleasure that had come, he was going to regret it later.

How many times had he now masturbated to the thought of Namikaze Naruto sucking him off? How many times would there be before he let go of this insane obsession? It was weird, not to mention _wrong_. He tried to justify his actions by thinking of the nameless girls at his school that probably thought of him while touching themselves.

Yet, he couldn't help the frustration rising within him – at least they had the chance to look at him every day; to approach him. He had to satisfy himself with photographs and mute videos of his affection dancing and stretching. He really wanted to touch – _explore _– that tan body.

Turning off the water, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed his towel. The purple fabric was soft against his skin, and he sighed deeply. As the bliss ebbed out, these thoughts and questions returned to his mind. Naruto, crying. Naruto, running away without even stopping to tell why. Sasuke tried to stop the angry feeling, but the disappointment of not being able to introduce himself took over.

He used his fingers to get his damp hair into some sort of order before exiting the humid bathroom. With the towel around his waist, he walked over to his wardrobe in search for something to wear. Kiba would arrive in less than fifteen minutes, so he had to hurry if he wanted to hide all the half-finished drawings he had started.

He had to throw away the canvas by his desk as well, because it was obvious who was going to be painted there. He had only managed the strong contours of Naruto's face and neck, but a commercial poster he had stolen from his school was taped to the corner of the canvas. The commercial poster was like the one he had thrown away due to the degrading clutter, a picture of Naruto and the dates of the performance.

There were mostly dark clothes in Sasuke's wardrobe, the occasional white wife-beater or t-shirt standing out between the blue, black and gray colours. Grabbing a navy blue t-shirt and a pair of jeans, he got dressed hurriedly. After that, he made his way downstairs to get something to eat before Kiba came over.

There was no one else in the kitchen, and Sasuke suspected that no one was at home either. That was good, considering that he didn't want to explain his sudden friendliness with other teenagers. He tried not to think of the teasing comments he would have to endure from his brother, if the older Uchiha found out about his new _friends_. Instead, he focused on taking an apple from the exotic fruit bowl, then searching for the bread basket.

Before he could find the bread basket, there was a knock on the door. The knock turned into a rhythmic tapping, but Sasuke didn't recognise whatever beat Kiba was trying to re-enact. Taking a bite from the green apple, he walked out from the kitchen to open the presumably locked front door.

The knocking didn't stop until Sasuke opened the door, chewing on a new bite of fruit, finding Kiba there with his large dog. Before the young Uchiha could tell Kiba that the dog had to stay outside, both animal and its master were inside of his hall. Kiba kicked off his shoes, hanging off his coat on the coat hanger as if he had been in the Uchiha manor plenty of times.

Sasuke could only stare at the big dog in his hall. The fur was white and brown, long and surprisingly clean. It reached his hips without problem, and it was already sniffing on his jeans and feet, as if trying to place him. Sasuke had never been a big fan of dogs, but he had never really had the chance to get used to them. The only animals in the compound were the ugly fighting dogs, and those weren't exactly cuddly.

"Just pet him, Captain. He won't jump you until you say its okay."

"It _isn't _okay," Sasuke muttered under his breath.

Kiba chuckled, running his tan hands through the white fur of the dog's back. This had to be Akamaru, Sasuke guessed, the canine that Kiba always spoke so fondly of in school. "Did you bring your stuff?"

"If you, by stuff, mean the evil that is homework, then yeah. Really nice of you to help me, despite being an asshole and all." Kiba grinned, picking up the bag he had dropped on the floor. "Shika is too lazy to actually help me. I don't pass the tests or anything when he explains. It's not like I'm an idiot or something, but you know, he's a motherfucking genius and I–"

"Shut up, Kiba." Sasuke guessed that, since the Itachi was allergic to animals, they would have to be nowhere where Itachi usually hung out when he visited. Kiba just shrugged at the order, snapping his fingers to make Akamaru back off. The large dog made a noise, but Sasuke couldn't really tell what it meant. "My room. Now."

Kiba nodded eagerly, walking up the stairs with the white beast in tow. Sasuke stared at the wagging tail, wondering where the satisfaction in having such an animal laid. He followed his guest upstairs, opening his bedroom door and nodding for the other to get inside.

It wasn't until then, when Sasuke walked inside behind the dog, that he realised that he hadn't cleaned up at all. He hadn't counted on Kiba to be early. The black-haired male didn't really know what to say, so he kept his narrow eyes on Akamaru when the dog sat down in the corner, apparently tired after the walk to the Uchiha Compound.

"He doesn't… he doesn't need anything, does he?" Sasuke wasn't so sure that he wanted to leave Akamaru and Kiba alone in his room. His laptop was up and running from yesterday, there were crinkled papers everywhere, and the canvas… _the canvas_.

"Man, you're deep in the shit, aren't you, Captain?" Kiba's toothy grin wasn't pleasant at all, and a scowl appeared on Sasuke's handsome face. The Inuzuka tilted his head, reading on the A4-sized poster that was taped to the canvas. "This is commercial for the show we were at, right? It was pretty awesome, but I haven't gotten a hold of Naruto yet."

_Yet_, Sasuke thought. _Yet._ That was good – it meant that Kiba would, in the future, get a hold of Naruto.

"I asked mom for Naruto's home phone number, but she just said he moved to his dad's place. Mom's really down about it, but she won't tell me anything." Kiba shrugged, but the other could tell that the brunet cared and worried about his mother more than he let on. The toothy grin was soon back, and Kiba spewed out more idiocy, "Dude, I shoulda known that you wouldn't settle for anything less than the mayor's son. Right? Your brother, isn't he dating the girl from Amegakure?"

Sasuke gestured for Kiba to sit down by his desk, but the Inuzuka slumped down on the newly made bed instead. Grabbing his laptop and putting it away, Sasuke sat down by his desk and waited for the other to take the initiative.

Kiba got the hint immediately, unzipping his bag and pouring out a few worn books and notebooks on the bed. "I know you're taking a different course in history, but y'know, perhaps you can help me with this shit anyway?"

"It's art history," Sasuke corrected. "But I have taken this course in history before."

Kiba looked a little confused, as if taking more than the mandatory courses was madness, but nodded slowly. "There's this test in a week, 'bout Hitler and Himmler or whoever."

Sasuke nodded slowly. He could remember this part from his history course, which he had finished during his second year before he started with art history as an alternative. Hitler and the Second World War had been a great part of the course, so he guessed that Kiba had a lot of work to do.

"Let's start, then," Sasuke urged and reached out for one of the books. He glanced at Kiba to see if the brash teen was following him.

"What's your deal with Naruto, Sasuke? You've never met, and there's nothing really special about him. He's a ballet dancer, for Christ's sake."

The interruption caused Sasuke's scowl to deepen. There was something special about Naruto, even if _Kiba_ didn't see it. It wasn't his hair-colour, his bright smile or the icy blue in his eyes. No, it was the strong body. The strong body and the seemingly strong psyche. A survivor, a _fighter_. Sasuke was, every single time he looked at a photograph of the ballerino, astounded by the determination he saw.

Even though they had never met, Sasuke was sure that once they did, they would find each other perfectly well. Naruto would be amazed by his drawing, and he would immediately ask if Sasuke wanted to use him as a model. That was how it would be, yes.

Kiba just didn't understand.

"Is there some gay appeal about him that I'm missing? It's his flexibility, isn't it? Captain, you sly–"

"If you want my help, you better not finish that sentence. Are we clear?"

"Err, yeah, sorry. Crystal clear, Captain."

* * *

The weather was damp, but no rain fell from the sky. Although the clock only had turned four in the afternoon, it was getting dark. The clouds were heavy and gloomy, trying to dampen their mood. It didn't seem to work on Kiba, who was happily walking on the tarmac streets outside of the Uchiha Compound. Sasuke, on the other hand, put his hands deep in his pockets and tried not to strangle his company.

The Inuzuka Kennel was a bit outside of town, but they weren't heading towards Kiba's home. Sasuke wished that it had been the case – he wouldn't mind walking Kiba all the way to the Inuzuka's home, even if it would take an hour or so. With the pace that the big dog had settled for, they would be there before they even knew it.

Sasuke now understood the people who didn't buy dogs. Akamaru had been disturbing them as they did their homework, with his barks and restlessness, causing Kiba to go restless as well. Not a lot of homework had been done, but Kiba now held _some _understanding towards the World War II.

"Thanks for helping me today. Y'know, it was nice of you."

"Stop saying that." Sasuke really didn't want to hear it. He hadn't exactly done it because he wanted to, or because he felt the need to help out a buddy. He had done it, because the closer he was to Kiba, the closer he would be to Naruto. He had a small feeling that Kiba knew it, and was trying to rub it in his face.

There was amusement in Kiba's voice when he said, "I'll make sure that you'll meet Naruto soon. I have this feeling that it'll happen."

Sasuke nodded as they stopped. Akamaru sniffed around, taking his time before doing his business. Kiba handed Sasuke the leash in order to fix his shoelaces while the dog was busy. Feeling awkward with the leash in his hand, Sasuke looked over his shoulder to see if there were any people nearby.

"People will think you've done something illegal if you continue to look around like that. You're making me nervous, Captain."

"…Fuck you, Kiba."

Kiba snickered, "No, thank you. I don't think your heart would be in it."

"Keep that up and I'll tell coach to bench you the next game." Sasuke almost flinched when the leash in his hand started to pull, but he instantly found himself. Akamaru led the way forward, so Sasuke merely walked behind with the leash in a tight, secure grip. Kiba didn't make a motion to take it back.

"Why do you throw away all of your sketches of Naruto? I think they're… y'know, _kinda_ good."

Sasuke kept his eyes on the beast in front of him, sometimes looking up to see where they were heading. He figured out that a big dog like Akamaru probably enjoyed long walks. Kiba made a grunting noise, trying to coax an answer out of his companion.

The young Uchiha didn't know what to answer – that they weren't good enough, that they didn't do Naruto any justice, that there wasn't enough emotion in the sketches?

Perhaps because, while both answers were correct, it wasn't what they both knew would be the most honest. Sasuke felt Kiba's staring, and he could almost feel that the other knew. That it was an excuse – it was an excuse to see him again.

Naruto would make a great model, Sasuke was sure, and it was the perfect excuse to see him again. Just once more.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

* * *

**I apologise for the shortness of this and it's sister-story (UCC). Please take some time to check that one out, and also take a look at my poll!**


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